


5 Life-changing Kisses

by cmorgana



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 5 Times, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:59:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmorgana/pseuds/cmorgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 kisses that changed Thorin's life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Life-changing Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of notes this time! 
> 
> First of all. This fic actually got a BETA, a great one too! So all my thanks and my eternal love to [in_lighter_ink](http://archiveofourown.org/users/in_lighter_ink/pseuds/in_lighter_ink), go and check her work! 
> 
> Second part of the note is a huge thank you to [Raffie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Raffie/pseuds/Raffie), my amazing gf who always help me re-reading my works and being my cheerleader when I write ;)
> 
> Third...some facts and ages are taken from the book(s), others from the movie. I tried to stay vague enough but you'll probably notice when I was inspired from one and when from the other. 
> 
> The fourth isn't really a note. Rating goes from absolutely Gen - G to Explicit Thorin/Dwalin so NC-17. No incest, there's just a lot of fluff with baby!Kili and baby!Fili.
> 
> That's all. Hope you'll enjoy and...I love kudos and comments ;)

**1** \- The first kiss Thorin considered worthy of being remembered, except for his mom’s, was the one Dwalin gave him. His first real kiss at all, if he had to be honest. 

They weren’t children anymore, actually they already were well into adolescence, and Thorin could perfectly recall it as a midsummer's late afternoon, too hot to do much more than just lie in the dead grass and maybe (definitely not if they were to be caught or accused of it) spying on a small group of lady dwarves bathing in their underclothes. Thorin had blushed, hard, when one of the girls had taken off the thin camisole and showed a pair of plump boobs, and suddenly Dwalin was more interested in teasing Thorin than in the naked chest.

“Oh, come on, you’re Erebor’s prince, I’m sure you’ve seen and touched hundreds of tits!” his friend teased, and Thorin’s face went even redder, because obviously he hadn’t and the reason was exactly that he was a prince and he had to keep some decorum or something like that, his grandfather and father kept repeating to him. 

“Shut up and look at them, I’m sure they’re your first, instead,” he teased back, grinning gladly when Dwalin’s face got even redder than his. 

He didn’t even remember how things escalated from that, how the two of them ended up going from teasing to embarrassedly admitting their virginities to each other.

What Thorin recalled perfectly, instead, were Dwalin’s dark eyes when he had asked if he could kiss him. 

"Just to try, to see if I'd be good to kiss a girl." At the time, it had been little more than a dare and too many hormones. Dwalin had taken his face in his hands and just planted his warm and wet mouth on Thorin's. Years later, though, it was obvious to Thorin that the kiss had meant something more.

All his life Thorin would remember the chapped lips, the slimy tongue asking permission to enter but taking it before he could grant it. 

It was a terrible first kiss, one of those that makes you wonder why people love to do that so much. And yet a minute later Thorin was pinning Dwalin to the soft ground and kissing him as if he needed it just to survive. 

Because maybe it had been a bad first kiss, but Thorin was already addicted to Dwalin’s smell and taste and knew he could ever get enough of them. 

**2** – The second important kiss was maybe the one that changed his life and made him into the adult dwarf he was. 

The battle outside of Moria had ended, the thunder of screams and weapons gone. Only silence and the cries of the wounded and the dwarves who had lost everyone and everything filled the valley. Thorin only remembered crawling a little farther than any other, letting his battered and spent body fall on the bloody grass, but he knew nothing after that. He didn’t even know how long he laid there, eyes closed, too shocked to cry, too shocked to even realize what happened or to think. He didn’t even jump when a cold hand touched his shoulder, cold and sticky with blood. He could feel it even through his clothes. He barely opened his eyes, just far enough to find Balin knelt beside him, face in a grimace of horror and fear. “Are you ok, my king?” he asked, worried. “Don’t do it, don’t call me that!” Thorin almost yelled, sitting suddenly. He could feel his arms tremble from the strain of the battle, everything in his body hurt. Balin just nodded. “Whatever you want, but are you wounded?” he inquired again. 

Thorin hesitated. Was he? He didn’t know. His soul was wounded, everything physical ached, but at the same time, he felt numb. He looked down at his own body. He was covered in filth and blood. Some was his, most was orcs’, and too much was from other dwarves he tried too late to save. He didn’t think he had major wounds, but he didn’t really care. “I’m good,” he murmured, feeling like a child, incapable of good words, incapable of even getting up on his own feet. 

Balin nodded, and then took a quick look around, scanning the corpses he could see from there. 

“Who are you searching for?” Thorin inquired, slightly worried despite being sure he couldn’t feel such a thing. How can you feel worry when you have nothing else to lose? When you've just realized how much pain and horror a war means? “I…I don’t know where Dwalin is. He was near me almost ‘til the end, but then…” Balin admitted, pain and fear even more visible on his face. Thorin looked at him, and still he knew his stare must have been hollow. Dwalin. Dwalin was his partner, Dwalin was the dwarf he shared his bed and body with from time to time. Dwalin was his soulmate, even if both had agreed they were too young and in too dangerous a situation to do something about that. He should have felt something, he should have felt the despair he was seeing on Balin’s face. Instead he felt nothing. “You should go and search for him.” “No. If he’s alive he can wait. If...if he’s not, he needs me no longer. You are here, instead, and you look like someone who really needs help.” “But I don’t. I’m alright, I just need a moment.” 

Balin smiled slightly. “You can let go of that stubborn pride with me, Thorin. I know your heart and I saw your value, it’s alright if you’re hurt now” “I just have minor wounds." 

Balin chuckled. “It’s not your body that worries me. I saw you fight, the fire that led you after your father and grandfather died, and I know what’s in your heart and mind now that everything is over and there’s nothing left but ruins. I may not be of royal blood, but I’m still a dwarf and a warrior and I know the emptiness that seems to have taken your heart.” 

Thorin didn’t even think about it. He just leaned forward, against the other dwarf’s chest, letting Balin cuddle him like a baby. He didn’t know where to start from, he didn’t know what it meant to rule his community, and he knew even less of how to save them, how to find them a new home and new ways to survive. He didn’t feel like a king, he felt like a kid, and he wanted his father or his grandfather. He wanted someone to lead him, to teach him. He no longer had that someone. “I…I don’t think I can do it, I don’t think I can be your king.” 

Balin took him by the shoulders and kept him at arm's length. “I know you think you don’t, but you know what I saw on that battlefield? I saw an army whose kings were dead, I saw dwarves give up, defeated, waiting for the terrible death that was already upon them. And then I saw you, the young prince who faced his enemy alone, armed only with rage, strength, and a piece of wood. I saw an army follow you. You were born to be a king and a leader, Thorin. Not only because of your lineage, just because you were, and I’d kneel to you at any moment” “You don’t aspire to have great kings, since I’m crying on your shoulder like a kid.” “You’ve feelings. You'd lost everything and used all your strength, all your courage, but you fought when everyone else had already given up. You’ve a right to break now, with me, knowing it’ll be our secret. That’s what great kings do. They’re vulnerable as anyone else, but it’s only shown to their closest friends.” “I doubt my father used to cry like a baby,” Thorin objected again with a flinch. It was starting to hurt, the numbness was starting to turn into pain. He didn’t know if it was better or not. “You do? Then you should have asked my father about when they were dwarflings, of how scared he was of being the prince.” 

Thorin gave a small smile. “All your family have been cuddling stupid royals for generations, then. You should be proud,” he joked and the moment he realized he stilled. So he was still able to work even if he didn’t feel it. He was still able to smile, to joke, and to feel pain. Maybe the emptiness was supposed to be there to be king. Maybe to rule over dwarves who were going to die because of wars and famine you needed to feel nothing. And yet he doubted. “I’m proud of it. I’m proud of helping you, Thorin, because you’re it, you’re the one I know I can call king, and I know every other dwarf out there is thinking the same. You’ll be the brightest king of the line of Durin. Your name will be remembered over the centuries, I promise,” Balin said solemnly, but the gravity was soon tenderly taken away by a gentle kiss on the forehead. Thorin leaned into the warm and too dry lips, taking comfort in the friendly gesture. He was still scared, but now he knew that all those dwarves’ lives were his to save, that there was a whole community ready to trust him, and he wasn’t going to let them down. He wasn’t ready yet to be king, but he was nonetheless, so he was going to fulfill his duties to the best of his knowledge. “You should really stop harassing my king, brother,” Dwalin’s voice interrupted them. They both turned. Dwalin’s face was blue and bloody, his left arm a mess of blood and wounded skin, and he was pale as death, but he seemed mostly ok, and he was alive. That was the only thing that mattered. “I’m...I’m not…” Thorin tried to protest, but Dwalin just rolled his eyes. “Don’t you even start. You’re my king, Thorin, you earned your crown on the battlefield when you saved all our dwarves. My brother may cuddle you when you’re stupid, but try and reject your title and I’ll kick your ass, instead…my king” Dwalin explained, kneeling next to them, exhausted.  
Thorin smiled tiredly. Maybe he didn’t need to be ready, maybe no one had ever been ready to be king, but he wasn’t alone and there was nothing he could not do with his friends by his side. 

**3** – The third kiss worth remembering was given to him by Fili when he was no more than a toddler. 

Fili was five, a tiny blond thing, one of the few kids born that decade, and spoiled by everyone except Thorin because a prince shouldn’t be spoiled, no matter how young. Or maybe just because he reminded Thorin of his lost brother, even if older dwarf didn’t know if that was possible at all, and he didn’t want to remember -- he didn’t like that pain -- so he didn’t want to spend time spoiling the child. 

He had generally avoided the kid, who was mostly scared of him anyway, the big and broody uncle who often argued with his mother. Thorin was perfectly all right with keeping that relationship the way it was, at least until the little kid could do things like change his own clothes without help. 

But things drastically changed the day Kili was born and everyone seemed busy around an exhausted Dìs or the screaming newborn. 

No one even noticed when little Fili ran away. 

He reached the kid on the hill in front of the house, and ignored the flinch when he sat near the dwarfling. Fili was pale and crying softly, and maybe Thorin wasn’t good with kids, but there was nothing in the world that could keep him from helping his own nephew when he was in pain.

“Don’t you like your baby brother?” he asked, because it really was the only question to come to his mind. The kid shrugged. 

“I knew he was coming. Doesn’t matter, he’ll be with Mum all the time, I won’t even see him.” 

And just like that it was Thorin’s turn to flinch, because Fili seemed so much older than five while talking and yet he was just a jealous toddler. Thorin definitely knew nothing about toddlers, that was the confirmation, but he knew something about brothers. 

“You know, I had a brother,” he started, out of the blue, and the kid’s eyes turned on him, intense. 

“Uncle Frerin. Mom says he’s left for a long journey and that you won’t see him until a really distant day.” 

Thorin ignored the pang of pain at the innocent words and just nodded with a small smile. 

“Yes, something like that. But that’s not my lesson for you,” the kid nodded again, attentive. “He was younger than me, and when he was born I absolutely hated him, couldn’t understand so much fuss about a screaming thing pooping himself.” 

Fili made a face then laughed a little. “They wanted him because he was cuter than you?” he asked innocently. 

Thorin laughed. “No, not because of that, even if he probably was. Everyone was celebrating because he was a new member of our family, because one day he was to become a warrior or whatever else he’d have chosen to be. A hero maybe. And then I grew up and understood what it was to be a big brother.”

“What is it?” Fili asked, confused.

“It is that you can help him became whatever he’s supposed to, you can help him forge himself and be a better dwarf. Do you think you can do that for your little brother?”

“But he’s so little and…” Fili protested. 

Thorin could remember ever-too-clearly when Frerin was born, the feeling of watching that little thing and wonder how in hell he could grow up into a real dwarf. 

“I promise you, Fili, soon you’ll love him and he won’t even be a small crying bundle. He’ll be your best friend and your responsibility.” 

The child fell silent then, thoughtful. “I could start by defending him from bugs! I don’t like bugs, they make you scratchy and I hate being scratchy! He can’t even scratch himself! I could even scratch him if a bug had him!” the kid proclaimed after a while, fiercely, so fiercely that Thorin would always remember feeling already proud for the great king his nephew one day was going to be. A cub that was going to turn into a great lion, no doubt. “I’ll protect and teach him, but…” a moment of uncertainty. “Uncle Thorin, promise me you’ll be there when I won’t be able to protect or help him.” 

“I’ll always be there to protect both of you, dwarfling,” Thorin promised and it was the most solemn vow of his life. Just like that Fili leaned in and kissed his cheek with a loud smack. 

“He’ll be a great dwarf, Uncle, I promise” Fili told him seriously, but a second later he was already giggling like the kid he was. “I’ve got to go protect him from bugs! Bye, Uncle!” he called, running back toward his house and leaving Thorin to sigh with a smile. 

Thorin didn’t doubt that it was one of his most important kisses, the moment he grew certain his nephews were going to be great dwarves. And maybe, even if Thorin wouldn’t ever admit it, it was the scariest moment of his life, too: the one in which he realized he had an even bigger responsibility than being king: protecting his nephews. 

**4** – The fourth important kiss was given by him and not to him. 

He was working at the forge, a day as a million others up to when Fili entered the workshop at a run, face streaked with tears, hiccups shaking his whole body.

“Kili is gone! He’s gone!” he yelled, just that, nothing more, too scared to really think. 

It was like a punch to Thorin’s stomach. He couldn’t breathe as he went the short distance across the shop to his nephew. He grabbed him by the shoulders with a not too gentle shake. 

“What do you mean? What happened to him?” he barked.

Fili took a deep breath, obviously to control his own emotions as a young prince should. Any other moment Thorin would have felt proud of him, but not that one, not with his younger nephew’s whereabouts still unknown. 

“We had a stupid fight. I accused him of being too young to be the great archer he claims he is. I told him there are warrior archers far better than him… He…rushed into the woods, he was really upset. I don’t even know why I said those things…and he’s gone! I’ve searched for him in every place we both know, but…he’s gone, Uncle. I can’t find my brother” 

Fili was about to break, Thorin could clearly see that, but there was really nothing he could do, because at the moment Kili was probably in danger, and the only way to help Fili was to save his brother. 

Finding it hard even to breathe, to think, Thorin glanced at Dwalin behind him, and then they both turned at the winter sky turning darker by the minutes in the cold afternoon. It was going to be a freezing night, and it was going to happen far too soon.

“How long ago?” 

“Three hours, maybe?” Fili admitted with a flinch, new tears on his face. 

Thorin groaned in rage and pain. “You should have told me long before!" he thundered. “We’re losing so much precious time!” 

Fili gulped down his tears at the reprimand, and for a second Thorin ignored his own fear, because the young dwarf was really going to lose it, and that wasn’t what they needed. 

“Ok, it’s ok, Fili. We’ll find your brother, but I need you to go back home and stay there, in case he comes back.”

“I’ll come with you, I can’t leave my brother out there alone! He’s my responsibility!” Fili protested, shaking. 

Thorin hugged him for a brief second, head already far into the woods, busy thinking of every hiding place his nephew could have found.

“Fili, I need to know you’re safe. I can’t think about you in the woods while I search for Kili, so I want you to obey my order.” He didn’t say that he couldn’t lose both of them, he didn’t say that he was shaking with fear. 

Thorin was endlessly thankful when Dwalin pressed a lit torch in his hand. A small group of their friends was already gathering, ready to go and help them in the search. He was grateful to have Dwalin by his side, clear-minded when he knew he was not.

“Please, Uncle, bring him back to me,” Fili begged, legs almost giving out. 

Thorin patted his shoulder, glancing at Dwalin who was already ordering the others where to go. 

“I’ll get him back, I promise. He’ll sleep in his bed tonight,” Thorin promised, but felt a pang of guilt at the empty oath. He couldn’t really guarantee it; he had no certainty they’d find the young dwarf, and the more time went on, the more he started to really worry about why the boy might not be coming back. He knew Kili, he was reckless, but not stupid, and Thorin well knew he couldn’t survive a night out there. Thorin was also sure he knew his nephew’s heart, and Kili would have never worried them all so much for a stupid rebellion. 

Totally lost in his thoughts, Thorin didn’t even notice he had taken the direction pointed by Dwalin’s finger. He didn’t notice he was running in the woods, screaming Kili’s name at the top of his lungs. He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t lose his baby nephew, he was little more than a kid…and he couldn’t think of Fili losing his brother. He had barely made it after he lost Frerin, and they hadn't been as close as his nephews. Fili would never have got over something like that; it was sure he was going to lose him too. 

He screamed and screamed until his throat was hoarse. He ran and climbed, fear and adrenaline driving him farther than he thought Kili could have even gone, and yet he kept going and going, the torch now the only light in the moonless night. 

He was ready to give up, ready to admit his nephew was gone for good, only a faint hope that maybe he had found shelter somewhere still lingering in the back of his mind, when a weak voice caught his attention. It was too faint and too far to be one of the other dwarves calling out. It was a faint and weak plea… He started running again, mind suddenly empty, incapable even of the easiest thoughts.

“Kili? Kili, is that you?” he screamed, over and over, until the weak sound was incredibly closer and it was a clear demand for help. It was Kili calling out to him, to his uncle, but he was in the middle of a wood, with wind whistling in the trees and damn owls screaming, and he couldn’t find him. He couldn’t hear where the voice was coming from. 

He kicked a rock with a frustrated yell, breathing hard to calm himself down. Kili was there, near him, alive, and all he needed to do was to follow his voice and take him home. It was easy. He was a warrior and a king, he could do with such an easy task. 

“Kili! Kili, keep talking, I need to follow your voice!” he yelled in the wind, and after a second a scream of “Uncle!” replied to him. He let instinct drive him, because if reason had failed him he know he could still trust his guts, and started to jog in the direction of the voice, or at least he hoped so. 

“Uncle! I’m here! Please!” Kili screamed again, obviously scared, probably cold and hurt. 

Thorin was sure his heart had never beaten so hard before. He could feel bile rise up in his throat at the thought of his baby nephew hurt and cold and scared. His mouth and lungs seemed to start humming on their own accord, an old song, a sad one, about the loss of Erebor, one that he recalled singing once or twice beside Kili’s crib, with Fili asleep on his lap. 

He hummed while running, not even caring about something as stupid as breathing, and in the end Kili’s call was really near, a few steps from him, he was sure. He looked down the cliff and a few meters under, there was his nephew, shaking so hard he could see it from where he was, but he was alive and that was all that mattered. 

“Kili, I’m here, baby, I’m here,” he comforted the dwarfling while gliding on the grass to reach him. He was there a second later, and Kili tried to smile at him. A smile. He was hurt and scared, but had the force to smile at his uncle! That was what totally undid Thorin. 

He crawled to his nephew on hands and knees and hugged him, not even caring if he was somehow hurting him, because Kili was alive, and Thorin for a few terrible moments that night had been sure he could have never held him again. 

“I’m here, kid, I’ve got you,” he murmured into his nephew’s ear while Kili hugged him back, icy cold arms around his shoulders.

“I knew. I knew you’d find me. I never doubted it, Uncle,” the young dwarf cried into his neck. 

Thorin broke the embrace just to look at him. “I would never let you go, I would never fail you without a fight. I’m here to protect you, Kili,” he promised once more, and then he just kissed his forehead, chapped lips against cold and wet skin, because he was his nephew and Thorin had almost lost him that night, maybe without him even knowing how important he was, how his uncle was proud of him. 

“My leg hurts so much, and I’m cold...please, take me home, Uncle,” the young dwarf murmured after a few seconds, because maybe he was almost a grown dwarf now, but sometimes near his uncle he still felt like a kid. He knew he could because he knew his uncle would always protect him.

Thorin took off his coat, wrapped it around Kili’s shoulders, and then lifted the young one. 

“We’re going home, Kili. It’s over, you’re safe,” he repeated once again, more to himself than to his nephew. Kili shifted in his hold, hiding his face in Thorin’s neck. 

“I love you, Uncle,” he muttered before passing out. Thorin smiled, face pressed into his hair. He loved him too, so much, and now he could promise himself to remember to tell them, both his nephews, from time to time, how proud he was of them, of the great dwarves they’d grown into. 

**5** – The fifth most important kiss wasn’t the last one, not by a long shot. It was after lust and sex, it was about pride and fear. It was the kiss that marked the beginning of the change, even if it was with his partner of a whole life. It happened in the middle of the night, in a dark chamber in his quarters where a small group of his most faithful dwarves had gathered. Six grown dwarves in a small room and still not a breath was heard, every gaze pointed at him, the king, on his feet at the head of the table, fully dressed as his role dictated, even in his private apartment with a few friends. No one spoke a word for a long while, eyes trained on Thorin’s face, so still he could as well have been made of stone. Just for half a second, in the dim light, his gaze wandered to Dwalin, who sat on his left, and then it was back to roam over all the faces, one by one. Balin was the first to stand. His fist hit the table, and the beat resounded in the room. 

“I’ll come with you, my king. I’m ready to join your quest to take back Erebor. I’m ready to lay down my life for you and for what is ours by right,” Balin announced solemnly. 

Thorin nodded gravely, and just like that, all the other dwarves were getting up, pledging their alliance and their loyalty. Dwalin was the last to get up, with a small smirk on his lips. “I’d follow you into the fire of Smaug’s mouth, you know it,” he said simply, definitely less solemn than the others, and yet Thorin knew that his was the most unbreakable vow of all. 

The gathering didn’t last much longer, all the dwarves excited by the news they were going to soon leave to take their home back, maybe even excited by the idea of some adventure, some battles to remind them they were warriors, not only blacksmiths and toy makers. 

It was Dwalin who spoke first once the others were gone. “So… that’s why you were so nervous and self-absorbed these last days. You were planning what could be a war, probably a suicide mission for all of us who’ll come with you…and you didn’t think about talking it out with me.” It wasn’t a real reprimand. Dwalin had long since resigned himself to the fact that Thorin needed to work things out by himself. Yet he still thought that maybe, after being his partner for most of their lives, the dwarf could have learned that things were easier to decide upon if shared. “I’m the king. I had to examine the signs, to talk with Gandalf, and to decide. You couldn’t decide the quest for me,” Thorin explained with a sigh. He had lost count of how many times he had dished out the same reply, of how many times he had reminded Dwalin that he was the king and decisions were his to bear. “And I’m your soulmate, so I could still have helped you!” 

Thorin stood and crossed the few steps to face his partner. “All your lives are on my shoulders now. I could get you all killed, I could see my kin refuse me the help we need. Do they seem like things I could talk to you about over dinner?” he protested. 

Dwalin shook his head. “We share a bed, a workshop, and a life. I don’t care if you didn’t tell me before the others, I’m not after that and you know it, but you could have told me that there was something so huge on your shoulders, that it was having the responsibility of such a decision that weighed so heavy on your mind and soul, Thorin! You were retreating from me, hiding, and I was worried. I don’t want to rule, I don’t even want to help you rule, damn it. All I need to feel fulfilled are my axes and a battlefield, but I love you, you old idiot, so what I need most is to share your pain and worries as well as your happiness.” 

Thorin didn’t reply, he just leaned in and kissed him with all the passion he could gather, grabbing his hair, pulling at it. He loved Dwalin, he had since that first kiss as adolescents, and that was one of the reasons. The dwarf didn’t mind if he was a king, with or without a throne. He just minded that he was his soulmate and his best friend. Dwalin didn’t care for politics and such, but was ready to share whatever burden was weighing on Thorin’s shoulders. And yet Thorin was still convinced that, for once, the burden was his and his alone to bear. “It will come, the day you’ll stop kissing me to shut me up,” Dwalin protested, nipping at Thorin’s lips. “And the day will come you’ll show some respect for your king,” Thorin quickly shot back, shivering at the dirty smirk that suddenly appeared on his lover’s mouth. “You’re right, your majesty. I think it’s appropriate to kneel in front of you,” Dwalin murmured dirtily.With a last, almost chaste, kiss, he dropped to his knees, hands suddenly pushing clothes aside, in a hurry to reach Thorin’s skin. Thorin let him, looking at Dwalin’s tattooed head with half-lidded eyes. The dwarf was the only one in his life able to turn things like that, able to drain all his tension with just a smirk and a touch. He forgot himself with Dwalin, he forgot about his role, his title, his responsibilities. All he was able to think about was the passion, lust, and love bonding them. Dwalin didn’t wait. The moment Thorin’s dick was out of his pants, he engulfed it in his mouth, sucking it as if his life depended on it. Thorin moaned, head thrown back, eyes suddenly closed. 

Dwalin could feel the instant all the tension really slipped out of him. “Yeah, like that, my king,” he teased, letting the cock slip from his lips just to tongue the slit. 

Thorin groaned, grabbing the hair at the back of his partner's head and guiding him back on his cock. It was long minutes before Thorin found the self control to push the dwarf’s mouth away. “Enough,” he moaned in an embarrassing high-pitched tone. 

Dwalin smirked openly. “Enough? Why should I stop?” “Fuck me. I want you to fuck me,” Thorin stated and his partner’s grin widened. “Oh, you’re bossy tonight, already fighting to keep control?” the younger dwarf teased while getting up. “I’m your king, I always control you,” Thorin tried, knowing that Dwalin would never go along with it.  
“You do? Because I’m more used to you begging and mewling on all fours…my king,” was the sudden reply and all Thorin could do to end the little debate was to kiss Dwalin again, with passion and desperation. The clothes were gone in a moment, the preparation was rough and fast, but the second Dwalin pushed inside Thorin it was slow lovemaking more than dirty sex. It was about comfort. It was Dwalin’s way to reassure and ground him. Dwalin came first just to be able to slip out of his partner and suck him to completion, to watch Thorin’s back arch, body still and tense, eyes screwed shut but mouth wide open in a silent scream. When he was done teasing the half-limp cock just to elicit small moans of protest, Dwalin lay beside Thorin, head on his shoulder, finger distractedly twisted in one of his tresses. “So, finally back as warriors. I won't miss being a blacksmith at all,” he casually said just to give Thorin an opening. 

The king sighed. “I won’t either…if I manage not to get you all killed.” “We all know the risks, but it’s our home, it’s our gold, and it’s worth it”

“And yet the mission is on my shoulders. Centuries from now I’ll be remembered as the king who got all his dwarves killed and conquered nothing.” 

Dwalin tugged at the braid sharply. “Except you won’t, and a year from now you’ll be on your throne and I’ll fuck you over a pile of gold.” 

Thorin smiled slightly at that. “I can think of a few things we could do with that gold and jewels,” the older replied with a smirk. “See? That’s why we have to take Erebor back. And I can have my title of royal concubine” “Prince consort,” Thorin corrected. “Concubine sounds a lot more kinky and interesting.” 

They both grinned at that, but soon Thorin's face slipped back into seriousness. “I’m scared. I’m not sure I can shoulder this all alone. I’m not sure I can keep my pride in check and still make the right decisions, or that I’ll know how to be authoritative enough to lead you all,” Thorin lamented. He needed to admit it and he knew he could tell it to Dwalin, he knew he could tell anything to Dwalin without the other dwarf thinking less of him.

His lover forced him to look into his eyes, turning his face by tugging at the tress. 

“Then you’re lucky you won’t ever be alone. You’re our king, you’re MY king, but you know you can come to me at any moment and I’ll take control from you. You know it’s officially on your shoulders, but you can ask me anything. I’m ready to help you with the hardest decisions, I’m ready to keep your pride in check, and I’m ready to kick asses if someone won’t listen to your orders. Nothing could keep me from saving you,” Dwalin reassured him. 

Thorin held him tight, because he knew their relationship was the only thing still keeping him together, it was the only thing that gave him the courage to interpret the signals and decide to take their journey. “I love you, Thorin, and I have no doubts you’ll be the best possible leader,” Dwalin murmured again, sealing the words with a kiss, a promise to never leave him alone. 

That was the moment Thorin knew, the moment he was sure that they could make it, they could defeat a dragon and all the obstacles in between, and that he could lead his fellow dwarves to victory. Because if he was going to fail, to fall, Dwalin was behind him, ready to catch him.


End file.
